Loyalties
by Eljay
Summary: Anakin's sexual awakening, Obi-Wan's middle-age crisis, Qui-Gon lurking in the shadows. Complications? Hell, yes. Slash. Obi-Wan/Anakin. Finished.
1. Enigmas

Disclaimer: Star Wars and everything affiliated belongs to George Lucas, Lucasfilm, and their shareholders. I own no part of it, and I am writing this with no authorization to do so. I am making no profit off this piece. The characters in this story do not belong to me, except for Taro, who is a figment of my imagination. Kindly do not sue me; I wrote this after seeing Episode II because I was inspired and had nowhere else to use that inspiration. 

Author's note: This is a slash story about Anakin and Obi-Wan, exploring Anakin's sexual awakening and Obi-Wan's mid-life crisis. It is rated NC-17 not for explicit violence or sex, but rather for language, some hinted sex, rape, and violence, and general kinkiness. Sorry, no explicit sex. It is still not for the kiddies, to whom I suggest an afternoon with the TV instead. You have been warned; I bear no responsibility for whatever consequences you suffer from reading this. 

Having said that, if you still would like to read it, by all means, go ahead! Read and PLEASE REVIEW! Send me whatever you want, be it a good or bad word, or even a flame. Still, at least make it a tasteful flame, not something along the lines of "ew this is gay u are gay u sick sick stoopid bitch!!1!!!" 

Enjoy !

All right, these are my author's notes for the whole story, so I'm allowed to make them long. First off, sorry for the triple spacing for every paragraph break. It can't be helped- some weird fluke between Windows 2000 word files and ff.net. Secondly, for anyone who says, Hey, I've read this before- True. It's just that one of my friends asked me to send it to her, and I decided to proofread it again, and a caught a lot of mistakes that I didn't the first time 'round. Continuity, capitalization, _et cetera. _

*********************

Loyalties 

Chapter one: Enigmas

  Foreword

No one has as much control over his or her future as s/he would like to believe. It is our emotions that decide our actions, whether you choose to believe it or not.  Often it is also these emotions that linger in our hearts long after the event has passed, marking us. 

So it is with all sentient beings.

Even the almighty Jedi knights. 

"Frustration bit inside him. Obi-Wan _tried _to understand him. He loved his Master for that. But no one could understand. Not his fellow students at the Temple, not his teachers, not even Yoda, who seemed to understand so much."  

© Jude Watson, Jedi Apprentice: Special Edition, Deceptions

   Fifteen-year-old Anakin Skywalker lay sprawled on his sleep-couch, thinking and chewing on his Padawan braid absently. It was unusual to see a young, handsome Padawan in his quarters on a busy night at the clubs, but no one thought twice of it.

   They all knew that Anakin was no ordinary Padawan.

   Anakin was in love, or at least in deep lust, with his Master, which was presenting him with some difficulty. Obi-Wan clouded his sleep, his meditations, and even his daydreams during his more dull lessons. It was getting embarrassing- he was fairly sure that people were starting to notice, especially considering that he was surrounded by Force-sensitives. 

   Anakin knew that he would have to do something about his 'problem' before his Master sensed his feelings through their Force-bonds, because nothing good could ever come out of that. So far, Anakin's shields had worked, but keeping them up was an exhausting job, and Anakin wasn't sure how much longer he could hold up. But how could he tell his Master something like that? There was no way he could without sounding like an infatuated, idiotic Padawan. His Master would be revolted.  He would send him to Yoda, and they would expel him from the Jedi, or something equally as bad. Maybe he'd never see Obi-Wan ever again, and he couldn't bear to live with that, so he said nothing. But he knew he should, and that counted for something.

   Anakin sighed, and decided to think more about it later. He reverted back to one of his more obscure fantasies of his Master, making sure that his shields were up. His lips parted into a smile at the thought of having Obi-Wan lying next to him, his elegant chestnut hair plastered close to his head with sweat and his teeth biting into his lip in a look of concentration. 

   Anakin's hand very slowly started undoing the laces on his breeches.

**

   Obi-Wan played with the flavoured stick stirring his drink. He was in a popular Jedi nightclub, alone, drinking and feeling generally melancholy. He looked out at the young couples in love, knowing that for most of them, the magic would be lost by the next morning. _I used to be one of them_, he thought wistfully. _When did I become so old?_ He took a sip of the neon drink and pulled his cloak closer to himself. 

   Obi-Wan stood up, leaving his drink on the table. He felt the need to be with someone familiar, and his feet started towards Mace Wind's quarters. His eyes prickled, and he rubbed at them furiously. 

**

   Anakin felt disgusted with himself. He wiped off his sticky fingers on his cloak. He stuck it under his sleep-couch, figuring that he'd give it to the laundry-droid the next morning. Until then, a shower sounded good. A nice, cold shower. He couldn't have Master Obi-Wan finding him like this, and he was due back any minute. 

   Anakin stepped out of the 'fresher, rubbing at his hair with a towel. He dried himself off and slipped into an old pair of his Master's sleep-clothes that he'd taken to wearing. He loved the smell of his Master, and it comforted him whenever he awoke sweating coldly from some nightmare. 

   The door opened, and Anakin rushed to meet his Master. "Good evening, Padawan." There was a trace of sadness in Obi-Wan's voice. Anakin frowned, wondering what could be bothering him. "Is something wrong, Master?"

   "No…yes. Come here, Padawan."

   Anakin did as he was told and was surprised when his Master pulled him into a hug. They separated and sat down on the red futon that dominated their common quarters. 

   "You know, Master, if something's wrong, you can always tell me…" he started, puzzled. 

   Obi-Wan looked at Anakin and felt like telling him everything. About how lonely he had become. About how inadequate he felt as a Master. About how old he felt. About how much he missed Qui-Gon. But he wouldn't understand, thought Obi-Wan. _It wouldn't be fair, _thought Obi-Wan. He looked at Anakin and opened his mouth to formulate a story about a bad lightsaber practise, but his Padawan's liquid brown eyes were too warm, too concerned. He couldn't lie, not to Anakin. 

"I… I'm lonely, I'm cold and I'm tired." He laughed bitterly. "Your old Master isn't afraid of death, but he's terrified of being alone. I'm a disgrace to the Jedi Order," Obi-Wan stated in a clipped voice, staring blankly at Anakin's hair. Anakin couldn't figure out what he should do, so he did what he thought his mother would have done. He hugged his Master tightly, drinking in the smell of smoke and mint from his hair, and stayed silent, in case Obi-Wan wanted to elaborate. 

   Obi-Wan sat stiffly at first, but he relaxed into Anakin's arms eventually and started playing with his Padawan's thin braid, trying to forget himself and say something. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just let his Padawan hold him. He sobbed once, but instantly regretted it when he felt his Padawan's fingers in his hair, trying clumsily to soothe him. _You're the Master_, he reminded himself, _you absolutely have to keep it together._

   At some point he fell deeply asleep, and Anakin let him, as his own eyes were starting to feel heavy. 

   Anakin yawned tiredly and tried to rub his eyes, but found that his arms were pinned down by a heavy, warm mass on his chest. He tried to push it off before he realised what it was. A million possibilities of how his Master ended up draped over him flashed through Anakin's mind in the split second it took him to remember the truth. He was disappointed, to say the least, but happy that his Master had opened up to him like that. He enjoyed how heavy his Master felt, how his heartbeat pulsed against his abdomen. _No_, he thought frantically, _no! Not now_, he urged himself as he felt a familiar liquid heat run through his body. He twisted away desperately, hoping beyond hope that his Master wouldn't feel his newly throbbing cock. 

    Obi-Wan stirred. Anakin prayed to the Force that he wasn't awake.

   "Good morning, Anakin."

    Anakin made a quick mental note to ask Master Yoda if his abilities in the Force had significantly dropped for some reason. 

    "Good morning, Master," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too strained. He snorted. _Yes, your VOICE is the biggest- argh! Stop!- problem here. _

   Obi-Wan felt better than he had the night before. He yawned and gently rested his head on Anakin's belly, his lips quirking into a smile of surprise a few seconds later. _Well, well_, thought Obi-Wan, _at least one of us had pleasant dreams last night_.

   Anakin felt Obi-Wan stir and he knew that he had been discovered. He wished that there was some kind of hole he could crawl into and hide… _No, not that kind of hole!_ he protested, arguing foolishly against his own dirty mind. 

   Obi-Wan raised his head to look at Anakin, who was blushing deeper and deeper with every passing scecond. He seemed to be avoiding his Master's gaze. Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh at his Padawan's awkwardness- he was going to start whistling in a second to distract himself.  

    "Sweet dreams, huh, Anakin?"

   The giant strawberry that was Anakin let out a nervous giggle. "Shut up, Master."

   Obi-Wan grinned. He'd struck a nerve. "So sorry I broke down like that last night. You _obviously_ had other things on your mind."

    He tipped up Anakin's chin, forcing his Padawan to look at him. He saw feral, sharp glint of something- but it vanished, and in its place was a sheepish, shy stare. Obi-Wan figured that he must have imagined it, and continued his teasing.

   " I'm sorry- I know you wish it was anyone other than me falling asleep on you."

   Anakin laughed with his master, relieved. " Are you done yet, Master? Haven't you had your fun?"

   Obi-Wan ruffled his Padawan's hair affectionately. "Just one more. It isn't often that I find time to humiliate you. When I said sweet dreams, I didn't mean quite that sweet, Ani. Oh, well, I was your age once myself. A zillion years ago, of course. I know how you feel. And go get her, any girl would be foolish to turn you down." 

   Anakin looked at his Master with a reassured smile. Thank the Sith hells that his Master hadn't figured out exactly who those dreams were about! Also, his Master thought that Anakin had his eye on a she! _Yay! _he cheered mentally. 

   Obi-Wan stood up and stretched, waking up his muscles. Anakin winced as he got up, the knots in his back protesting loudly.

   Obi-Wan looked worriedly at his Padawan. "Oh, Ani, that must be my fault for making you sleep like that. Here, let me work those out for you."

   " Sure, Master," said Anakin, hoping his glee wasn't too obvious in his voice. He quickly stripped to the waist and lay down on the futon, thanking every aching muscle in his back. His Master straddled his hips, the rough material of his cloak brushing against Anakin's bare flesh. A current of heat swept through Anakin's entire body, and he had to bite his lip to stop from sighing. His Master's soft fingers ran over his flesh, setting his nerve endings on fire. The half-hour stretched on sweetly, leaving a thoroughly incoherent Padawan in its wake. 

   Eventually, as all good things do, it had to end. Obi-Wan said something, but Anakin wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to keep his hormones in check.

   "Anakin!"

   "Huh?"

   "Anakin, I asked if that felt any better."

   "Yes, Master. Thank you."

   An idea suddenly struck Anakin. " You don't mind if I return the favour, do you, Master? Your back seems a bit stiff as well."

   "Thank you, Anakin, but there's really no-"

    "I insist."

   "I was hoping you would," answered Obi-Wan. "Teen Padawans don't make the best mattresses."

    Anakin swallowed hard as he watched his Master strip down. Obi-Wan's strong, lean body looked magnificent in the weak rays of light starting to escape from the horizon, but Anakin would think that his Master's body looked gorgeous in any light. He had to fight hard against the powerful bile of lust that was starting to rise in his throat. His Master's flesh seemed to burn at his touch, and he worked hard at relaxing the tired muscles in Obi-Wan's back, particularly in the shoulders. He knew that his Master could feel his hard-on, but he didn't particularly care. He would blame it all on Taro if his Master asked.

   But right now, he was going to enjoy this.

**

   Obi-Wan ran a brush through his hair, trying to make himself presentable for the Jedi council. Master Yoda had summoned him privately, but that was no excuse to have hair that looked like the fur of a frazzled Wookiee. Obi-Wan smiled at his reflection. He wasn't an arrogant man, but even he knew when he looked good. He straightened his robes slightly and left, wondering briefly why Anakin had left so early for his lightsaber duelling class.

**

   Anakin rested his lightsaber on a bench for a second to wipe his forehead with a towel. He'd been deeply immersed in some vicous combat with his best friend Taro for over an hour, and his class hadn't even started yet. Duelling was one of the only ways he could let loose all of the emotion he pent up in front of his Master. He was very good at it; he had plenty of opportunities to practice, after all. He wiped off one of the mirrored walls and remembered that he still had to fix his Padawan braid. He smiled as he ducked, and the green lightsaber harmlessly struck the mirror he was looking at. Taro usually didn't play fair, but Anakin's amazing abilities in the Force gave him the upper hand.

    "Yeah, yeah, you got lucky this time. I should have hit you. Now, less mirror, more action, pretty boy."

Anakin grinned as he flipped on his lightsaber. "You'll have to catch me first, Taro," he teased, pulling down the visor on his helmet. 

**

   Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to Master Yoda before taking his seat on the meditation mat set out on the ground. Yoda stared at him with wizened eyes, making Obi-Wan uncomfortable. Master Yoda could see straight into the heart, and Obi-Wan wasn't ready to know what he was feeling. 

   " Confused, you are. Know of your Padawan's feelings, you do not."

   "Of course I know how Anakin is feeling! He's…happy, and he's in love!"

   "That much is apparent, Obi-Wan. How feels he for you?"

   "He respects me and my authority. He is learning well. His abilities in the Force are unsurpassed in his level. Master Yoda, I don't know why you've-"

    "No, youngling," Yoda shifted his position so that he was staring directly at Obi-Wan. "How feels he about you as Obi-Wan, not as Master Obi-Wan?"

   "We have a great relationship. We talk and joke and…and get along. He is an excellent Padawan," stammered Obi-Wan. 

   "Let you into his mind, he does not. When presented to the Council he was, shielded, we discovered his mind to be. Alarmed, I was, by the hostility I found when tried, I did, to probe gently his mind."

   Obi-Wan felt all his hopes sink. Shielding yourself from the Council was tolerated, but it was a rule that you had to drop all shields when talking to Master Yoda himself. Obi-Wan had always willingly done so. What could Anakin possibly have to hide? _He's hiding something from me_, realised Obi-Wan with a start. _There is something he doesn't want me to know, and he would go to the level of defying Master Yoda to keep it hidden. _

   "Yes, Obi-Wan. Concerned, I am. Know what Anakin is hiding, I do not. Well shielded, he has kept himself. Afraid, he is, that you will find out. Fear leads to the Dark side. If Anakin were to fall to the Dark side, chaos would reign the galaxy, Obi-Wan."

   "But that's mad! Anakin would never turn!"

   "So I hope, Obi-Wan. So I hope. Tell me, Obi-Wan, know you who Anakin's new love interest is?" 

   "I…I don't know, Master."   

    "Make it your mission to find out, you will. That will be all, Obi-Wan," said Yoda with a smile. He stood up and left, leaning heavily -and falsely- on his cane. 

    Obi-Wan felt confused and unhappy. _Qui-Gon was wrong_, he thought. _I wasn't ready to be a Master. I tried, and now my own Padawan is hiding from me. _Obi-Wan walked to their shared sleep-chambers and stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to figure things out. He smiled an ironic smile. Here was the Jedi knight who could stop wars, negotiate impossible treaties, and yet not figure out what was going through his fifteen-year-old Padawan's mind. He felt like a total failure.  

**

   Anakin recited the planets of the Outer Rim in a monotonous voice while he probed his Master's mind to see what was going on. He was surprised at the anguish and grief that he found, centring on memories of Qui-Gon. Anakin had always expected some sadness on the topic of Obi-Wan's dead Master, but not this festering swamp of regret and pain. This was something close to a suicidal amount. Anakin paused as his brain processed that last thought and he ran out of the class, not bothering to leave an explanation. He needed to find his Master.

    He found himself in the Jedi memorial gardens, a beautiful but sombre place where Jedi seldom went. This made it easy to spot his Master, who was bent over in a secluded corner of the garden. Anakin ran to his Master and put his hand on his shoulder. He was surprised when his Master looked up at him with perfectly dry eyes. Instead of tears, a capricious angry grief darkened those blue eyes, scaring Anakin far more than tears would have. 

    "Why, Ani, why'd he have to die? I loved him so much, and than he was just taken… just taken away! I hate the Sith! I wish that they'd killed me that night! I failed him. And… and now I'm failing you."

It registered numbly in Anakin's mind that Jedi weren't supposed to hate. Obi-Wan was doing a bad thing. This came as a shock to Anakin- though not completely straight-laced; Obi-Wan was a stickler for the Jedi code. 

   "No, Master, if you'd died that night, I would never have been trained in the Jedi academy! I couldn't ask for a better Master! I couldn't live without you!"

   "Now you know how I feel!" Obi-Wan stood up and brought himself to his full height, which was already an impressive three inches shorter than Anakin. He realised that he could still inspire fear in his Padawan as Anakin shrunk back against a tree. He regretted what he was about to say before he even opened his mouth, but he couldn't stop it from spilling out. 

   "Tell me, Anakin, if you love me so much, why are you hiding things from me?" Obi-Wan's voice was a low, deadly hiss. His normally clear blue eyes had darkened to a deep indigo and his lips were set in a hard, grim line. For a single frightening moment, Anakin felt his Master turn into a sombre shadow of who he really was, but only for a second. Than it was gone, and he was the calm, austere Jedi master again, saying something about meditating. 

   Obi-Wan wasn't nearly as secure as he let everyone think he was.  No, he was a mess, and Anakin had just learned that he was part of the problem. Anakin looked at Qui-Gon's white marking stone casting a shadow over his feet in the late evening-sun. It suddenly angered Anakin that his Master still held such a close connection to this man who had been dead for so long. _Why bother trying to love the dead? If they were gone, they were gone._ He glared at the simple white stone and spat on it. _He hated it, hated it for taking his Master away from him! _A picture of Shmi entered his mind and he sunk into the grass, dazedly realising the implications of what he'd just done. He involuntarily let out a sob, and another, missing his mother. He loved her so much- and than it hit him. He was a hypocrite. He was doing exactly what he'd just patronised obi-Wan for: loving the dead. 

    "Why, mom, why!" He clung to the grass and cried his soul dry, next to the marking stone where his spit was still glinting in the evening light. The smell of flowers was all around him, the grass green. So it was in this perfect picture that Anakin Skywalker learned how to hate, and how much he enjoyed hating. 

He fell asleep there many hours later, satisfied. 

   Master Yoda felt something strong snap in the Force, and he stood perfectly still, feeling dread wash over him like a wave. "A terrible thing has happened," uttered the small Jedi Master quietly as he sat down, ears twitching. He closed his eyes and hoped that this wasn't as dreadful as he felt it was. Something, or rather, someone, in the Temple had crossed the very fine line between frustration and hate, and enjoyed it very much there. Master Yoda bowed his head, trying to figure out who this person was, and found that he simply could not. This disturbed him greatly, and he stood up quietly, deciding to go for a walk in the memorial gardens. He had a hunch as to who it might be, and he dearly hoped that he was wrong. 


	2. Drunken Magic

Loyalties

Chapter two: Drunken magic 

   Obi-Wan wandered around the Temple. It had been almost three hours that he'd spent meditating, and he felt calm again. _Next time,_ he thought, _I will not lose my temper like that._ He found himself in the same nightclub again, at the same table, watching the young ones dance. He smiled in spite of himself. He used to be a good dancer. Someone- blond, handsome, invisible- walked over and asked him to dance, and he accepted. It was time to start over.

   Anakin yawned and opened his eyes, mildly surprised to find grass tickling his cheek. _Why am I asleep out here?_ he questioned groggily before remembering what had just happened. He smiled. He'd found the solution. No more trying to deal with his feelings for Obi-Wan, no more mourning over his mother, just hating. Hating whatever he felt like hating, and not giving a Xenu's spleen to what happened afterwards. _I'm not hurting anyone, so what's the problem?_ His smile grew broader as he got up and decided to go find Obi-Wan. He had some apologizing to do. _But before that,_ thought Anakin, _I have to find something to say about what I'm hiding from him_. _A simple lie won't do; it has to be detailed, so that he'll fall for it. _Anakin walked off into the night, looking for his Master and thinking. 

   Obi-Wan downed his fifth drink that night. He grimaced as the sharp alcohol bit his tongue, but stopped when someone far more appetizing did. He felt good. Here there was no judgement, only friends, and beautiful people. He was drunk enough not to be able to tell whether he was dancing with a man or a woman, but he didn't really care who he was dancing with. The point remained that he/she was there, and that he/she loved him. _I'm still a good dancer,_ he reflected happily. He was passed around like a favourite toy, and his mind registered giddily that they all wanted a piece of the incredible Jedi Master.

    And he was giving a hell of a lot more then a piece to a few of these beautiful people. He still had a few moves from his supposed golden age, and he had just liquor in his system to accept when one of them suggested that they take it to a corner. Man, woman, human-he still didn't know.

   _This,_ he thought, _is the life._

   Anakin went to his favourite nightclub to get something to eat. This place charged a hefty amount of credits, but it was worth it. He walked up to the bar and took a seat, waiting for his Mon Calamari friend to finish pouring someone else's drink.   
  
   "Hello, Anakin. The usual?"   
  
   "Yeah…and a Sopora drink."   
  
   " Bad day, huh?"   
  
   "You have no idea. First, my Master tells me that he-"   
  
   "Here's your drink, sir," said Malai to someone who'd just staggered up to the bar. She held up a salmon-pink hand, indicating for Anakin to pause while she tended to a customer. Anakin could smell the stench of liquor on the man who'd ordered the drink and he wrinkled his nose. _Just some useless drunk_. He noticed the drink that Byth gave him and raised an eyebrow. _A useless drunk with a large pocketbook. _  
  
   "Thanks, Byth…you're an angel. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"   
  
   Anakin's back stiffened. He knew that voice. He turned around, but he knew who the person was before he saw him.   
  
   "Master, what in the name of the Sith are you doing here?"   
  
   "Ani! Come dance with me!"   
  
   It took a remarkable bit of composure on Anakin's part to refuse this offer, but his accursed conscience was telling him that this was wrong. "You're drunk, aren't you?"   
  
  "Had a little bit to drink, maybe, but I'm not drunk! Now come dance with me!" Obi-Wan sat down on the stool next to Anakin's and pouted, showing off his considerably full lips. He crossed his arms and sat there looking like an overgrown child for almost ten minutes until Anakin thought of a compromise.   
  
   "If I dance with you for one dance, do you promise you'll go home with me?"

   "You are a very, very, very mean little boy, Ani…I don't wanna go home…Oh, fine! Fine… I promise I'll go home if you dance with me! Are you happy now?"

   Obi-Wan pulled Anakin off the stool and pushed him into the crowd. Anakin felt uncomfortable by the heat of so many bodies gyrating around him, and he noted with a small smile that it didn't seem to bother his Master at all. Obi-Wan must have been passed around quite a bit before he became a Master. 

   Obi-Wan giggled and blew a kiss to someone behind them taking the classic 'I'm with someone' position by grabbing Anakin's arm. For Anakin, it wasn't disagreeable, to say the least. _He's drunk, he's drunk_, Anakin said to himself. _I can't take advantage of him. It would be wrong, and I'll hate myself forever for it_. His Master pulled him up against his own body and pinched him in a squirmy spot. _On the other hand_, thought Anakin, _I'll only hate myself for a few weeks if I let him take advantage of me._

   Anakin let his Master lead. The two of them went surprisingly well together. Absentmindedly Anakin noted that the others around them had quit dancing to watch them, but he was too busy concentrating to care. They stopped when the song did, and smiled at the clapping and cheering that they received from the crowd.

   Despite it all, Anakin felt sad. The song was over. Now they were going to go home, and Obi-Wan would fall asleep, wake up badly hung over, and that would be the end of it. No more magic, no more dancing, this was the end. In the few seconds that Anakin's attention had been averted, he saw his Master looking cozy with a young female in a tight silver pantsuit. He rolled his eyes and pulled his Master away, shaking his head slightly at Obi-Wan's sudden promiscuity. _He's **very** drunk_, observed Anakin. 

    He ignored his Master's small babblings as they strode out of the nightclub to focus on his own misery. _If only I wasn't his Padawan, maybe it could have worked…_

   "Why you so sad, Ani?" he turned to look at his Master, with his messy hair, flushed face and big, shiny eyes. He looked like an overgrown child who had spent too much time playing. Which, in a sense, was true.

   "Nothing, Master. Let's go home."

    His Master sat down on the dirty ground in an alley and pouted. " I'm not going."

    "Yes, you are."

    "Don't wanna."

    "You promised…"

    "Sometimes I lie!"

    "Master, stop it!"

    "You're being a grumpy-head! You need to get laid!"

    "That's more a part of the problem than you might realise! You can't just-"

   But he was cut off by Obi-Wan, who yanked him down by the collar and kissed him. After about thirty seconds, Anakin could identify every one of the drinks his Master had that evening. That was no small accomplishment, considering the number of different drinks. He tried to pull himself back up, but Obi-Wan used his weight to pull Anakin back down with him. 

    Anakin had resolved not to let Obi-Wan's tongue in his mouth, but the resolve broke quickly. Two things to know about Obi-Wan Kenobi: He was relentless and was damn well not shy.

    So they made out. In a filthy alley, with a womp rat crawling up Anakin's leg and a stone digging into Obi-Wan's back. It was a good while before Anakin got his senses together and managed to gather the strength to throw his Master off, but he enjoyed it for a minute longer. Then, he did what any good Padawan would do, and pushed his Master off.

    "Happy now?" asked Obi-Wan gloatingly. He damn well knew from Anakin's response that he was happy now. Obi-Wan settled back into the ally, coyly spreading his arms – and his legs, too – in silent invitation. 

   Anakin gathered his willpower. That did him no good; even his willpower wanted to jump his Master's bones. So instead he thought of Yoda. Envisioning the small Jedi Master helped calm him down somewhat. And some calculus homework he had waiting for him. Calm, completely unsexy thoughts. 

   "Master, let's go home. Don't be difficult."

   "But I don't wanna!" 

    Anakin sighed. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He picked his Master up and slung him over his shoulder, looking for an air-taxi. He could fly his own speeder, but he had a feeling that speed was the last thing Obi-Wan needed, on top of all else. He found one easily enough and got in, dragging his Master with him.

    After a half an hour spent trying to keep Obi-Wan in his seat, they were finally home. He threw his Master on his bed and looked for some fresh robes, hoping to get the awful smoky smell out of the ones he was wearing.

    After his quick jump in the fresher, he none-too-gently suggested that his Master have one as well. He pushed his Master in with clean robes and a towel, walked to his room, and sat down on his bed to think. He found he couldn't think rationally. He had a strange vision of the alley, and then a broken white stone. This filled him with fear, and though he did not know why, he was relieved when his Master stepped back into the room.

   His Master stepped out of the shower, shaking his head to dry his hair. It stuck to his face in a most delectable way. _I'm just going to lean over, brush it away, and- No! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts! _Anakin held his head in his hands, feeling like an idiot. Why could he not control his emotions like the other Padawans could? _I'm a failure to the Jedi order_, he mused. _Damned Jedi order. What's the point of having a stupid Jedi order if no one follows it_? He swallowed the thought when he heard the soft brush of robes and felt the comforting weight against his leg. 

   His Master was studying him with a frown. He seemed less drunk now that he was clean. Anakin averted his gaze. He suddenly found his boots amazing. 

"Your Padawan braid is fuzzy, Anakin. Let me fix it for you."

   Anakin smiled a relieved smile. His Master was saying normal Padawan/Master stuff again. He sat on the floor with his Master on his sleep-couch like they always had, except for the few years when Anakin was so short that he had to sit on Obi-Wan's lap. 

   He felt his Master run his fingers through his hair, the callused pads massaging the delicate skin of his scalp. His Master had always made it a point to let Anakin know just how much he loved his hair. He unbraided the thin, crimped-wavy strand of hair and brushed it through, and braided it again with quick, deft fingers, smoothing it over so as to prevent wisps. For a second Anakin forgot what had happened between them, but only for a second. When his Master was done, they both stalled, not quite knowing what to do. Eventually Anakin got off the floor and took his place on the sleep-couch. They sat there silently for a while, neither of them willing to start the discussion. 

   Anakin leaned over to brush an imaginary piece of lint off his Master's robes. This seemed to be encouragement enough for Obi-Wan, who leaned over and pressed his mouth against Anakin's.

   _This is wrong,_ reflected Anakin. _Shut up!_ A part of his brain told him, and he listened. 

   A raw passion exploded between them. Their two selves seemed to meld into one, their heartbeat synchronized, their breathing shared. It was hard and sweet and delicious and perfect…and wrong. So perfectly, insidiously wrong. This could destroy them both if anyone found out. 

   That was part of what made it so sweet.

   None of this was going through Anakin's head just then. There was no thought, there was just do. And so he did. It was Anakin who leaned over first, and with shaking fingers, opened his Master's top and savoured at the sweet softness of the skin he found. He licked and touched and kissed and caressed, encouraged by the small noises Obi-Wan made from above him. It was that moment that would haunt him later- the discovery of his Master as a man, not as a Jedi. It was a picture frozen into his mind, timeless, with his Master's moans, the moonlight falling across them, Obi-Wan's fingers pulling his hair, himself between his Master's legs and a million other things that he could remember but not describe on that on fateful night when they saw the truth of one another. Soon Anakin became restless and stripped his Master bare, and that was when the truth really came out… literally and figuratively. 

   They were insatiable; there was just so much that they had to do. It was bright outside when they finally fell into a deep, exhausted slumber. Anakin lay in the crook of his Master's arm, spent, satisfied and sticky, and smiled a darkly content smile before he drifted off. 

   Anakin squinted and rolled over. He cursed quietly for not closing the curtains before he fell asleep. He felt fingers playing with his hair and snuggled against his Master happily. _Master? _thought Anakin, alarmed. _Oh, no. What the hell-_

Anakin struggled to cover himself with a blanket before he felt his Master's hand stop him. At his Master's touch, the whole night came back to him in a flash, leaving him even more willing to get something over his naked body. _Why on earth did I let him- he was drunk- Oh, Sith. _

   "Relax, Anakin. It's a bit late for modesty."

   "Master, what the hell did we do last night?"

   "We had some fun."

   "You're not angry?" 

    "Ani, why would I be angry? I'm a big boy; I think I can make my own decisions now."

   "But it- we- it-"

   Obi-Wan rolled over and looked at Anakin. Anakin squirmed. His Master had beautiful eyes-eyes that he could drown in if he wasn't careful. "I don't think you hated it all that much, Anakin. I apologise on my behalf, I was drunk and it was unfair to take advantage of you, but I promise that I will keep control of myself from now-"

    Anakin jammed his lips against Obi-Wan's to stop him from making another accursed promise that Anakin didn't want to hear. "No," he whispered against his Master's mouth, "you most certainly not, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

   Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan, surprised that even Anakin would have the courage to do such a bold thing. He saw the shimmering, twisting flame of lust in those dark eyes, and for a second it scared him. There was a longing 

in his Padawan's eyes that he had never seen before. Anakin could have anything-anything-his heart desired if he wanted it badly enough.

He had already proven it with his Master.

But it was only for a second, and then he gave in to Anakin. _We're going to be late for lunch_, mused Obi-Wan as he grabbed his Padawan and pulled him down to the sleep-couch.

   Much later, after a shower, some time with Anakin and another shower, Obi-Wan found himself in Mace Windu's company. They went to a deserted garden and walked around, catching up on recent Temple-related stuff. They sat down and Obi-Wan winced. Thanks to Anakin, he was going to be sore for a while yet. Mace turned around and looked at him before breaking into a delighted grin.

   "You had sex, didn't you?" he said accusingly, poking Obi-Wan on the arm to emphasize his point.

   "Yes…How did you find out? I took a shower…"

   "Well, you have that goofy smile on your face, and the shower did you no good because I can smell him on you." Mace's eyes widened slightly. "Anakin?"

   "Shh! Yes! My Padawan fucked me, and fucked me good! I'm a disgusting old man! You've discovered me!"

   "I can't believe he finally told you. Yoda and I had figured it out a while ago, and we were just waiting for you to find out as well. Damn, you are slow, aren't you?"

   "Told me what?"

   "Didn't he- if you two already had- you don't know?"

   "No! Tell me! You and Master Yoda had already figured out that…"

   "Anakin loves you. More than that, he's _in _love with you. It's been this way for a long time now, Obi-Wan, my dear idiot of a friend!" Mace drawled, taking a bite of an apple. 

   Obi-Wan felt as if he'd just been slapped across the face, and other unmentionable places. _I have been slapped in other unmentionable places,_ he thought, happily remembering. _No- back to the point._ How could he not have seen it? He thought that these few days had simply been driven by lust, but now that he remembered it, he could feel Anakin's love pouring over him like a wave. It astounded him that this boy could be capable of such a powerful love. It was hot, enigmatic, a swirling fog of emotion that revealed no more than Anakin wished it to reveal. It was unlike anything Obi-Wan had seen before in its sheer inexplicability and power. He sat down and cradled his face in his hands, wondering how he could have been such a bumbling idiot. 

   "I know," said Mace quietly, resting his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "that you must be confused. One thing to remember, Obi-Wan: you're playing with fire; watch that you don't burn yourself. And don't let that fire spread where it can hurt people. If your Padawan is really the one who will bring balance to the Force, you have to be very careful not to tip him in the wrong direction, or he just might fall. It would be a dark day if Anakin turned."

   "Why does everybody say that he's going to turn? He won't turn! He's a good kid!"

   "That may be, but you overlook the fact that he is powerful. You feel that love, that passion he's showing you right now? Right now, it isn't hurting anybody. But think what he could do with it…"

  Obi-Wan shuddered as a cold vision ran through his mind. _No way that could happen to my Ani_, he thought. _There is just no way_. But still…"I will be careful, Mace."

   "That's all I ask." 

**

   Anakin whistled happily as he wandered down the corridor to a poetry class. He felt a contradiction of emotions; anger, satisfaction, happiness, but over it all a thirst for more. Now that he knew what he had been missing for so long, he was not about to give it up easily. He smiled. Obi-Wan would be his, he would see to that. 

**

    Obi-Wan had no idea what he was to do now. He was walking in one of the Jedi gardens, having left Mace a few minutes ago. He loved being with Anakin. His passion was contagious, intoxicating. Obi-Wan could feel an absence from not having any of it, and it had only been a few hours since they had last- explored. The only love Obi-Wan had ever felt that could compare was Qui-Gon…Qui-Gon! Obi-wan stood up and started pacing restlessly. _Have I  forgotten my Master so quickly_? Obi-Wan felt tears prickling his eyes. _We had such a beautiful relationship for three years and I'm comparing it to this…this twisted, lustful game I'm playing? How can I stand touching anyone after I promised that there would be no one after you, Master?_ "I'm so sorry, Master. I've- I've cheated on you," he choked out amidst sobs. It would seem strange that he was making promises to his dead Master, but no one saw him, so no one cared. 

   Obi-Wan realised that he had to stop playing this game with Anakin. It was destroying him…and yet he did not want to let go. 

   "So this is what they call tainted love," said Obi-Wan hollowly. He laughed, and he sound echoed mockingly back at him. It seemed to ring in his head, and he could not take it. Slowly, he reached for the brandy on the table behind him. "Jedi don't cry, Obi-Wan. Jedi don't cry."

 He raised the bottle to his lips and took a deep draught. And another. And yet another, as he tried to forget about Anakin. 

But it wasn't quite as easy as that.

**

Obi-Wan turns to alcohol for comfort…bad sign. What will he do- leave Anakin? Does he dare, after what Mace told him? This is starting to sound like a soap opera…Tell me what you think about my fanfic so far in a review.

I will post chapter three on Monday.

Read and review!

Here are my notes to those who reviewed chapter one:

Celestia Vitaria: Thank you for the flattery. Anakin should remember who saved him, but he is, after all, a teenager. 

Don't mind me: I hope my e-mail cleared things up. I'm sorry you don't like serious slash, but I posted a clear warning, and if you chose to read it, I guess you don't hate the idea so much after all. And I would like to add that as I am Canadian, I don't know my IQ, and don't care either. 

JulesK: Well, if you hate the idea of an evil Anakin, you might not want to see EP III, because it will be all about an evil Anakin. I don't think I made him too evil, he's just a naughty fifteen-year-old. 

SaraC: Thanks! Here's more! I'm glad you like my story. I thought it was a little too melodramatic, but if people like it, I guess it's ok. 


	3. Showdowns at revelations

Loyalties

Chapter three: Showdown at Revelations

Anakin walked out of his class holding a half-finished Calamarian sonnet, knowing he would have to do another one anyways. He had amused himself by writing a poem about his Master, but he was sure that the class would not appreciate details about his Master's body. Well, a good few of them wouldn't mind all that much, but Anakin was sure that his teacher would not. Strange, though, how Obi-Wan didn't know how many Padawans he had wanting him. Anakin smirked happily. "Eat your hearts out; he's mine," he muttered. 

"Who's yours?"

"Taro! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

His friend grinned and punched him on the arm. "I wasn't sneaking. You were daydreaming about Obi-Wan again."

" Why the hell did I even tell you about that in the first place! Thanks to your big mouth, half the Temple probably already knows! I swear, Taro, one of these days I'll-" 

"What you got there, Ani?" She interrupted before grabbing the piece of paper out of his hand. She fended off Anakin while she read it and he gave up, knowing she wouldn't quit until she was done. She laughed, the mellow sound trilling through his head like a bullet. 

" Sith Hells, my little Anakin is all growned up. You got laid, didn't you?"

" Shut up! That's none of your business! You're such a bitch sometimes."

"That's why you love me."

"I don't love you."

"No, but apparently you're getting some love from Obi-Wan."

"I am not!"

"Anakin, how long have we known each other? Six, seven years now? Don't try lying to me. Who else would that poem be about?"

"You?" Said Anakin feebly.

She looked at him, amusement clear in her dark eyes. "Me? Har har. That's the lamest thing I've ever heard. You know that trip we took last month?"

"What about it?"

"Remember how we ended up sharing a room? Well, Anakin, you might be surprised to know that you talk in your sleep, and moan and scream and generally give the impression of having a wet dream. And guess just who's name it was that you were screaming?"

Anakin bit his lip and refused to say anything, hoping that she would drop it. She didn't. 

"Oh, Obi-Wan! Master!" She moaned, imitating him. "And the expression on your face after it all, that well-laid, smug smile, is the same sile you've been wearing all of today. Just admit it. You got laid, didn't you?"

"Ok, but it's a secret, so you can't tell anybody. The Jedi Council is already not crazy about me, and I don't want them to know."

"You can trust me, Anakin," she said, suddenly serious, "as long as I can trust you." Her demeanour changed back to teasing quickly, as if she was uncomfortable with her honesty. "But you better keep your hands on Obi-Wan. If he's as good as you write him up to be, I just might want a taste."

Anakin shook his head and laughed. You could always count on Taro to find a spot for herself in any situation. 

" I'll see you later, Ani," she called, walking away.

" See you," he called, thinking that he just might have the time to squeeze in a bite to eat before his next class and maybe even- his train of thought was broken by a quick jolt of pain as he felt someone pinch his butt.

"You're dead!" He hollered, chasing Taro back down the hall. He laughed as he caught up to her and tackled her to the ground, tickling her. It never occurred to him to pick up the piece of paper that had fluttered to the ground behind him. A pair of feet approached, and a hand bent down to pick it up. 

Obi-Wan looked guiltily at the mostly empty bottle in his hand. He should not have had so much, and he knew it. And it offered him no solutions on what he should do about Anakin and himself. Obi-Wan decided that he would tell Anakin that it was all over, that they couldn't do it anymore. Obi-Wan sighed and sat down. He was doing the right thing, so why did he feel so wrong?

He picked up the bottle and put it back on the shelf. As soon as he comes back in, I'll tell him, he thought. As soon as he comes in. He sat down and stared at the door, waiting for Anakin to come back in. And waited. And waited still.

Eventually, he heard Anakin's heavy footsteps and thanked the Force that he didn't have to sit perfectly still anymore. He stood up to meet his Padawan. Anakin opened the door and smiled at his Master. Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Anakin was on him and his tongue was in Obi-Wan's already open mouth. No, thought Obi-Wan, no! This isn't how it's supposed to go! With considerable effort, he ripped himself away from his Padawan. He could see the anger smouldering quietly in Anakin's eyes and it scared him. For a second, he'd seen the darker side of his Padawan, and he wished to never see it again. 

Was he doing the right thing? No time for cold feet now, thought Obi-Wan. "Anakin, I love you so much-"

"I love you too!"

"-but we can't do this anymore. It's wrong for me to take advantage of you. I can't handle this kind of relationship, and I don't think you can either. It's destroying our Master/Padawan bond and…and…it's just wrong!"

Anakin smiled a smile that sent shivers down Obi-Wan's spine. He can't hurt anyone; Obi-Wan reminded himself, he wouldn't hurt anyone. Not my Anakin. 

"I understand, Master. Of course you're right. It's wrong."

Anakin's voice was even and calm, but Obi-Wan could hear the anger behind it. His Padawan simply didn't understand that this was for the best. In time, he would come to see it. Obi-Wan trembled slightly as he turned around to leave. He didn't trust himself around Anakin right now.

"Master?"

"Yes, Anakin?"

"At least give me a goodbye kiss. For old times sake?"

Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan's sad eyes and figured that one last kiss couldn't hurt anyone. He softly pressed his lips against his Padawan's and was rewarded by being slammed against a wall. Before he could open his eyes, Anakin's knee was between his legs and his tongue was in Obi-Wan's mouth. A few minutes later, Obi-wan dazedly looked at the sleep-couch in front of him as he registered what his Padawan had just done. Anakin was sucking on his neck right now, and his confused thoughts finally started to flow as the deprived oxygen ran up to it. "No!" He screamed hoarsely, throwing his Padawan to the ground. He saw the gloating in Anakin's eyes and it angered him even more. "No, Anakin, no! I said that it was over!"

His Padawan scowled in all his glorious fury and walked to the door. "Fine. If that's the way you feel," he hissed through clenched teeth as he stalked away.

Obi-Wan slid to the ground and cradled his face in his hands. He had done the right thing, hadn't he? The picture of Anakin scowling on the floor stuck in his mind, and for the first time, Obi-Wan realised just how much his Padawan was capable of. He shivered at the sight of Anakin's fury, red-hot and blinding, and Mace Windu's words echoed in his head. "One thing to remember, Obi-Wan: you're playing with fire; watch that you don't burn yourself."

He laughed. " Too late, huh, Mace? Too fucking late not to get burned!"

He stood up and decided to meditate, hoping that it would calm him down.

He took his place on the ground and inhaled deeply, trying to find hid centre and align it with the Force. He succeeded in doing so for a second, but he couldn't concentrate. Forget about Anakin, he told himself sternly. You've done the right thing. But how could he forget, when his lips were still sore and his neck wet? He paced around the small room like a caged animal as he struggled not to think about Anakin. I was a little harsh on him, he thought. Maybe I should go apologize, he thought.  But even as he walked to the door he knew that he was only going to see what Anakin was doing. 

Anakin stepped out of the small, obscure store in a back alley of Holonet wearing the tightest clothes he had ever seen in his life. He was having the slightest amount of trouble breathing, but that was okay, because he looked hot. The black material clung to every possible curve in his body. " Let's see how much Master Obi-Wan likes this," he said quietly, jumping into his speeder to head off to Revelations. He hadn't been there in a while; but he was sure he could get himself in anyways. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to sense his Padawan's energy. He sensed it somewhere in the underworld of Holonet, and he wondered what the hell Anakin could be doing there. He's just a kid, thought, Obi-Wan, what could he be doing in that drug-addled whorehouse? An idea dawned on him and he gritted his teeth, pushing the throttle up ever so slightly on his speeder. He would not let anyone -hurt- Anakin. He smiled. No, no one would hurt Anakin. 

Anakin smiled at the bouncer at the doors of the club.

"Ani! How you doing? Haven't seen you in a while! You look good."

"Seto, my friend, it's good to see you, too. I've been busy lately- you know, Jedi business. Am I still allowed in?"

"What, are you joking me? Everybody loves you here! Go right in."

"Thanks."

"Always a pleasure, Ani."

Anakin strode into the smoky, crowded place confidently. This place was so far from the Temple that no one ever bothered to come here, so strangers always surrounded him, and that was how he liked it. Strangers were better than acquaintances because you only saw the perfect side of the stranger, but when you had a friend, you had to take the ugly with the good. That was part of the reason Anakin didn't like having too many friends. 

"Hello, beautiful," called a whore from one corner of the room, batting her heavily made-up eyes at him in an invitation. He nodded at her, but kept walking. He could do better, and he knew it. He took a minute to look at everyone in the room and decided to strike up a conversation with the pretty blonde boy at the bar. He looked easy, and comparatively young. Anakin ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it down a little, took a deep breath, and sat down next to the boy, deciding to seduce him with the rogue appeal that he was told he had. It was a quick job, and in less than five minutes Anakin could tell that he had the kid eating out of his hand. He smiled and gulped down his shooter, willing himself not to sputter and spit it back out. That wouldn't be very sexy at all. 

Things were going very well, and the kid was in his lap, muttering unintelligible things into his ear. He pressed his lips against the kid's neck, wondering what his name was. Anakin closed his eyes and pretended that the kid's hair was a little darker, a little longer. Now this kid had a name; he was Obi-Wan Kenobi. He pulled his makeshift lover closer to himself and started kissing him. Not quite like the original, but it would do. The door opened and someone else walked in. Anakin paid no attention, concentrating solely on the boy perched on his lap. 

"Corellian hazel on the rocks, blunt and frosty, please.

Anakin's body stiffened. That was his Master's drink. Wait a minute; that was his Master's voice. Carefully adjusting the bundle in his lap so that he could see the person without the person seeing him, Anakin opened his eyes to look at the familiar stranger. He was greeting with a set of deep cobalt eyes and a warm smile. His eyes widened and he pushed the bundle out of his lap. He heard the boy protest but shushed him quickly. He smiled and quickly muttered, "Just some unfinished business to take care of. Why don't you wait for me over there?" the boy strode away obediently, leaving Anakin alone with his Master. His Master's demeanour changed quickly from loving to angry, so quickly that it was hard to see the shift. 

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Master!"

"I'm looking for you. What are you doing with that smutty little boy?"

"I thought you said it was over. You have no right to tell me who to date."

"I'm still your Master, and that gives me the right! Look at you…you look like a prostitute! Are you crazy? Dressing like that in this kind of neighbourhood?"

"There's a reason to why you came here, and I'm guessing that it has nothing to do with my choice in clothing or your sudden urge to come all the way down here for a drink. Why are you really here?" Demanded Anakin angrily. Who the hell did his Master think he was? He had no right to meddle in Anakin's life like that.

"Watch your mouth, Anakin!"

"No! Go away! I'll wear what I want, I'll kiss who I want, and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

Anakin stalked away to his table in the back and was relieved to see the boy waiting for him. "I'm sorry about that. Now, let's get back to-"

He felt himself get picked up and thrown against a wall. He winced as he felt the impact against his shoulders. He stared down into his Master's dark eyes and knew that he was going to pay for that show of rebellion. He felt his Master's hot breath against his ear as he heard the words in a low, even hiss.

"Nothing I can do to stop you, Anakin? Let's just see." He pressed his lips against his Padawan's hard and Anakin obediently opened his mouth to him. " If I can't touch you, no one else will," he whispered menacingly into Anakin's open mouth. He smiled as if nothing had happened. "Do I make myself perfectly clear?" He asked quietly. Anakin swallowed and nodded, avoiding his Master's gaze. Obi-Wan tipped up his Padawan's chin and he was shocked by the doubt and self-hate that he saw in those clear orbs, but it passed quickly and Obi-Wan turned around, afraid that his Padawan had seen too much. "Let's go, Anakin," he said. Was it Anakin's imagination, or did that voice just waver? He let his Padawan drop and took Anakin's hand in his own as they walked out of the club.

Anakin thought back in amazement to what had just happened. That was a side of his Master that he had never seen, and never wanted to see again. He looked at his Master's face, but Obi-Wan had hidden himself in his cloak. For the first time, Anakin didn't feel very safe with his Master sitting so close to him. He edged away slightly and stared out into the beautiful night of Coruscant, trying to puzzle out what had just happened to him.

But things weren't so clear anymore…

Obi-Wan can't figure out what to do, Anakin can't figure out what Obi-Wan just did. Who picked up the note? What is Obi-Wan thinking? All will be revealed in the next chapter of Loyalties. 

The next chapter will be put up on Thursday.

I hope you enjoyed my fanfic and remember to review!


	4. Nightmares

Loyalties

Chapter 4: Nightmares  

   A million thoughts ran through Obi-Wan's head as they went back to the Temple. He knew what he had just done was insane and unfair, but he didn't hear Anakin complaining, so he didn't worry about it. He hated himself for it, but seeing Anakin with that other boy had made him so jealous that he couldn't control himself. There was only one way to keep Anakin with him- satisfy him and give him what he wanted. He knew that he shouldn't, but what else could he do? He couldn't stand seeing Anakin with anyone else, and it drove him insane to be without Anakin. Anakin had become like a drug to him, a drug to which he had become completely and totally addicted. Until he found another drug, there was no way he could let Anakin go. It was that fact that kept repeating itself in his head until he loathed himself with every fibre of his moral being, and he couldn't ignore the hard-on he got now whenever he was close to his Padawan. 

   Anakin looked at his Master and wondered what he was thinking about. He'd been completely silent on the way back, and the neutral, guarded expression on his face told him nothing. He was frightened and vaguely turned on at the same time, and _that_ further frightened him and turned him on. He decided to break the ice- he couldn't stand the ominous silence anymore.

   "M-Master? What's going on?"

   "I wish I knew."

   "Where are we going?"

   "Nowhere."

   There was a frightening fervour in Obi-Wan's voice. Anakin looked at him and saw the hood slip back, revealing the bloodshot eyes that he and been hiding from his Padawan. He looked as though he'd been crying. Anakin squinted, trying to get a better look, but his Master hastily pulled the hood back up. They stopped on a landing pad somewhere in the downtown area of Holonet. Anakin, for the first time in his entire life, felt afraid to be sitting so close to his Master. He tried to edge away slightly, but just as he did, he heard his Master laugh, a frightening, unhinged sound. "You're afraid, Ani? Afraid of your old Master?"

    Anakin wished fervently that he could get out of the speeder, but the doors were all locked.

   "Nowhere to hide now, is there? Nowhere to hide!" yelled Obi-Wan, his voice hoarse and scented of rum. Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into his lap and squeezed his cheeks. He kissed him like that, with his lips puckered like a fish. Anakin tasted his blood in is mouth and remembered it.

   Obi-Wan looked at Anakin, and Anakin saw the turmoil raging behind his Master's eyes. Suddenly Obi-Wan looked tired, and much older than he actually was. He turned away from Anakin for a minute, his fingers still twined in Anakin's thick hair. Anakin saw a tear slip down his Master's face and closed his eyes, wishing he knew what to do.

   "It's going to be okay, Master." Anakin only wished he could get himself to believe it.

   "No, Ani, it's not going to be okay," said his Master quietly. "It hasn't been okay for a long time now, and it won't be okay again for a long time to come."

   Anakin stroked his Master's hair. He could hear the truth in Obi-Wan's voice, and it frightened him beyond words. They stayed like that for a long time, with Anakin in his Master's lap, stroking his hair. To the world they were a happy couple. To themselves they were a twisted mess of lust and loyalty. The both of them wondered what they were supposed to do now. The sounds of happy teenagers floated in to them from the outside, putting a false sheen on their silence. 

   Anakin looked at the chrono-unit in the speeder and saw that it was getting late. "Master, we really should be heading back now," he suggested gently.

   Obi-Wan wordlessly pushed him to the other side of the speeder-seat and turned the machine on in the third gear. It was a matter of minutes before they got back to the Temple. The only thing that was different when they arrived home from the day before was the complete silence between the two, and the fact that they decided on separate beds. 

   Anakin woke up in a cold sweat at the early hours of the morning. He had just had a dream about his mother, and though he could remember nothing about it, a deep terror was awakened in him as he lay there, perfectly still, staring at the tapestries woven onto the ceiling. He was shaking like a leaf, and knew that he would not be getting any more sleep that night. The thought annoyed him, as he had an exam the next day. He rolled over and pictured his Master sleeping peacefully in his mind. Anakin could almost see the fall of his chest as he exhaled, and the slow rise as he inhaled. He stood up. He did what he had always done in his youth when he had nightmares; he crawled in next to his Master and pulled the blankets to his chin, yielding to the beating of his Master's heart to put him to sleep. He hadn't done that since he had been ten years of age, but he was (mostly) confident that Obi-Wan wouldn't mind.

   He closed his eyes and was just starting to drift off when he felt his Master stir. He lay perfectly still as Obi-Wan put his arms around him, in a silent embrace that denied everything that had happened between them only a few hours before. Anakin bit his lip to keep from laughing; apparently Obi-Wan was used to sharing a bed. _Maybe he will forgive me after all_, thought Anakin, snuggling against his Master's arm. He started a Jedi breathing exercise that was meant to slow his metabolism and put him to sleep. He heard a moan and ignored it; but he couldn't easily ignore what his Master started saying. 

   "No…Qui-Gon…I didn't do it…" his Master said feverishly. Anakin saw him trying to struggle, as if there was something he had to run from. "It was his fault…his fault, Master…" Anakin's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what Obi-Wan was saying. "I love you, I love you so much, Master…but I'm cold…and your hands can't touch me anymore…" _The dead have a stronger hold on the two of us than we realise, _mused Anakin. First there was his dream about his mother, now Obi-Wan with Qui-Gon. But his mother wasn't really dead: she just… wasn't there. "Blame him! He's beautiful! Damn that beauty that made me… made me unfaithful."

   Unfaithful? But Obi-Wan hadn't had a serious relationship with anyone for years. Who could he possibly be unfaithful to? 

   "Anakin…Anakin's fault. Not mine."

   And with that, he understood. Even after Qui-Gon had been dead for seven years, Obi-Wan still held on to him. Obi-Wan still considered himself Qui-Gon's Padawan, still believed that their relationship was real. A hot fury rose into Anakin's mouth. He gritted his fingers into tight fists and bit his lip hard to stop himself from screaming. _He's mine now_, he screamed silently. _Leave us be, and let my Master have some peace._

   Anakin put his arms around his Master, protecting him against the demons in his troubled mind. He wished, and not for the first or last time, that he knew what he was supposed to do. 

   Anakin yawned sleepily the next morning. Between his own nightmares and his Master's, he hadn't gotten much than an hour and a half of sleep the night before.

   "Anakin, is something wrong? You look dead."

   "Didn't sleep well."

   "Is something wrong?"

_   Yes, something is wrong_, thought Anakin. _Us. We're wrong. You holding onto your dead Master's spirit for so long, that's wrong too. And the hate I feel right now, that's probably wrong too! There are so many fucking things that are wrong that I can't even write you list of them!_

  "No, nothing's wrong, Master," he said, making his voice as steady as he could. If Obi-Wan was going to ignore what had happened the night before, he could too.  

   Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan's eyes. They were darker than he last remembered. _It's just from the lack of sleep_, thought Obi-Wan. _He's a good kid. Still a good kid._

   "Are you sure you want to go to your lessons today? I think you should see Master Yoda. You look sick, Ani."

   "No, I'm fine! Don't worry about me so much! I'm not a little kid anymore!" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Anakin regretted saying them. He wasn't a child anymore, that was true, but he dearly wished that he were.

   Obi-Wan felt those words like a slap across the face. "Very well," he said quietly, standing up and walking away. 

   Anakin watched his Master leave and cursed quietly in all the languages he knew. He let his head drop to the table and hated himself. "Stupid, stupid Anakin," he told himself. And then, he, too, stood up and went to his first lesson. He felt a strange emptiness starting to grow in himself, and he found that he rather liked that emptiness. It was the only part of him that wasn't in pain.

**

   Obi-Wan found himself in the memorial gardens again, and that surprised him. He had originally been on his way to see Master Yoda. _Ah well_, he thought, as he sat down under the shade of the tree next to Qui-Gon's marking stone. The flowers were just past their prime, and a few of them had started fluttering to the ground. He caught one in his hand, and looked at it carefully. The brown stem, the shrivelled white petals and the fragility of it. He sudden closed his fist and shattered the poor thing, which was now in pieces and slowly floating to the ground. He watched the fragrant white dust sift through his fingers and tears sprang to his eyes, although he couldn't quite explain why. 

**

   In a different corner of the Temple, a young Padawan named Yavi took the folded piece of paper out of his pocket, wondering what it could be. He read it slowly, amazed by the dark talent that he found there. His lips curved into a smile of delight when he found the signature, scrawled diagonally on the left side of the paper, as was the Calamarian fashion. He could now finally get revenge on the boy who had always been better than him; no matter how hard he tried. Over the seven years he had known Anakin Skywalker he had come to loathe him, and now, he would finally have his revenge. He stood up and decided that Master Pte'rina would like to see this. 

   Anakin closed his eyes, wondering if he could sleep in class without the teacher noticing. The thought turned into the hazy mist of half-sleep until he felt somebody nudge him hard. He opened his eyes and nodded gratefully at Taro, before picking up his data-pad and starting the exam. 

   Master Yoda wandered quietly into the memorial gardens, wondering why Obi-Wan would want to be here. He saw his former Padawan curled into a feral position under a tree. He was crying quietly. The ancient Jedi Master worked his way to the tree and stood there, waiting for Obi-Wan to acknowledge his presence. It didn't take long.

   "I-I don't know what I am meant to do now, Master."

   "Distressed, you are. Know the cause of this, I do not. Help me understand this, you shall, Obi-Wan."

   "It's complicated. It starts with me getting drunk…and…"

   Master Yoda smiled slightly. "Go on, Obi-Wan. No need to feel embarrassed."

   Obi-Wan felt the small Jedi Master send a current of understanding his way. _But this is different…how can Yoda possibly understand this?_ Obi-Wan took in a deep breath. If they expelled him from the Jedi order because of this, so be it. If Yoda couldn't understand, no one could. He started talking, and he kept talking as he poured his aching heart out. 

   Anakin wondered why Master Pte'Rina had summoned him. He hadn't done anything particularly bad lately that he could remember, but she looked stern and distressed. 

   "Anakin," she began hesitantly. She stood up and came around her desk to lean against the window. "Anakin," she started again, before sitting down on the seat opposite him. "Anakin, what is this?" she finally said, taking out the small piece of paper. Anakin's heart jumped into his throat. He took the piece of paper, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't what he thought it was. He opened it with shaking fingers as the familiar sentences loomed, tall and black across the white paper. He looked up at his teacher and forced himself not to look scared. "It's just a joke," he said casually. Pte'Rina looked at him, wondering how this innocent boy could have written that…that lustful, angry, morbidly erotic poem. 

  "I will have to summon Master Yoda, Anakin," she said quietly. Anakin bit back the curse resting on the edge of his tongue. He couldn't afford to make this any worse for himself. He took a deep breath and realised that he had failed yet again. He glared at his teacher under his eyelashes. _One day, I will watch her bleed_…Anakin took some twisted comfort in the vision of his teacher lying on those carpets with her entrails spilling out, her blood darkening the- "Master Pte'rina? Summon me, do you? A few minutes, you shall have to wait, and than I will come." The holo-vid buzzed and the tiny picture of Yoda disappeared. Anakin closed his eyes and leaned back into the chair, surprised at his train of thought and thankful for his teacher's preoccupation with the holo-vid. 

   Obi-Wan followed Yoda into the chamber, wondering what Anakin had done this time. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and his robes were dirty and rumpled. His hair was a nightmare. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and straightened his robes in a small attempt to look more composed. It made some difference, although it must have seemed to Pte'Rina that both Master and Padawan hadn't slept well in a while. 

   Considering the subject matter of the poem, that didn't particularly help. 

  Obi-Wan bowed politely to the female Jedi Master and almost toppled over. He felt a strong hand catch his and turned around to see Anakin, who had a small smile on his face. He quickly smiled at his Padawan and took the seat closest to him. In this room, they had no choice but turn to one another, despite their disagreements. 

  "Master Yoda, I wish that tjis were on less serious business, and I do apologise for taking you away from your duties," began the short, stout woman. 

   Master Yoda simply nodded, sensing that there was more to come. "Read this, Master," she added, taking the paper from Anakin and handing it to Yoda. Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan questioningly, but Anakin simply nodded towards the paper.

   Master Yoda looked up after a few minutes. His expression was neutral as he looked at Anakin. "Wrote this, did you, youngling?" Anakin nodded slightly. Obi-Wan wished that he knew what was on the paper. 

   "Master Yoda, Master Pte'Rina, you wouldn't mind if I had a private word with my Padawan?"

   "Not at all," replied Yoda, and they stood up and stepped outside. Obi-Wan closed the door, careful not to slam it. First, he grabbed Anakin and pressed his mouth onto his, letting out the fire that had been building in him all morning. "I'm sorry," he whispered into Anakin's mouth. "Sorry for everything."

   They kissed again, before Obi-Wan realised that anyone could see them in a public hallway of the Temple. Anakin protested against this, but Obi-Wan was stoic. "Later," he promised, removing his face from Anakin's. It didn't take him long to revert from purring lover to angry Master. 

   "Fuck, Anakin! What the fuck have you done this time? This better be good, Anakin."

   "I wrote a poem."  
  


   "You wrote a poem? Why is Master Yoda here if you wrote a poem?"

   "I wrote a poem they didn't like. It was about you."

   "About me? About me how?"

"About you...About you when you're…About you the way I like to see you," he mumbled, not meeting his Master's eyes. 

   Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "We're fucked, Anakin. We are very, very fucked," he said, sounding weary. 

  Anakin squinted his eyes slightly and a guess started to form in his mind. His Master never cursed, only when- "Have you been drinking again, Master?" he asked accusingly. 

   "Yes," came the small, sad reply. "I can't stop myself anymore, Anakin," said his Master in a resigned voice. That scared Anakin more than he thought anything ever could; Obi-Wan had just given up.

   Anakin closed his eyes and felt the anger simmer in him. "What are you going to do, drink until you're dead?"

   Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin with bloodshot, tired eyes. "That was the initial plan," he whispered, sliding to the ground. 

   A tear slipped down the Padawan's chin. "No, Master," he said, falling to his knees and putting his arms around his Master's tired shoulders. "We have to go in, Master. We have to."

   Wordlessly Obi-Wan stood up and walked into the small chamber, with his head bent. Anakin quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and followed his Master in. They listened to every single minute of the long speech, wondering what had happened. Then, when they were finally allowed leave, they left together, both silent, both broken. 

   "Strongest Jedi of the Temple, they are," observed Yoda. "Only they could break one another." Master Pte'Rina looked out the window, watching the traffic speed by. 

   When they got back to their own quarters they stood at the door. Anakin watched his Master and let the tears fall freely down his face, sobbing quietly. Obi-Wan laughed. "Well, that wasn't so bad. It could have been much worse. What are you crying about?"

   Anakin found nothing he could say, so he simply stood there, waiting. Obi-Wan stripped down. "Get me some fresh robes, would you?" he asked cheerfully, reaching for his towel. Anakin suddenly noticed something on his arm. Obi-Wan saw him looking and quickly covered it with the towel. "Where are those robes, Ani? Come on, hop to it."

   Anakin grabbed his arm and pulled it up. He saw the pale lines of old scars crisscrossing in elaborate designs over the veins and his breath caught in is mouth. All of the lines were faded, save for one, which was the dark burgundy of a fresh wound. He dropped his Master's arm as if it were an evil thing and looked at his Master, horror clearly printed on his face. _How could I not have noticed these before? _he wondered, terrified. He looked up at his Master with the face of a kid who just realised that the galaxy was not as pretty as it seemed. 

   "So I'm a cutter. I like hurting myself. I like seeing the blood spill. It's art, Anakin. Symmetry. What's wrong with that? It's not a big deal."

   "Yes it is! You want to die! More than that, you invite death to yourself, like a guest to a tea party! A sick, twisted tea-party!"

   "I'm already dead, Anakin. My soul died when Qui-Gon did. The rest of me is still around for you, though."

   "Shut up! Why don't you shut up! You know I love you, why can't you accept it? Instead, you try to kill yourself! What the hell! I love you, I love you so much, and that makes you want to commit suicide? How the hell can you say you love me? Hypocrite! Liar!" Anakin yelled, eyes blazing. 

   Obi-Wan found himself at a loss for words. He pulled his Padawan into his arms and rested his chin on Anakin's head. He felt a tear run down his face, and another, and yet another, into Anakin's hair. "Shh, Anakin. It's not like that," he said soothingly. He used the small blade hidden inhis hand to cut off a lock of his Padawan's hair. He played with it, admiring the way light seemed to shimmer in it, but tucked it away quickly when he felt his Padawan stir. Anakin pulled away from him and turned away. "Go take that shower, Master. Here are your robes." Obi-Wan left, the blade still hidden in his palm. 

   The shower was hot, but Obi-Wan sat just out of reach of the water and bit into the only visible scar on his arm with the sharp stiletto-knife. He felt the metal's cold, hard kiss and watched the blood run down over his arm, drip onto the pale blue tiles. He did it, over and over again, always carefully following a pattern, a design. It was beautiful-the bead of blood, perfect, round, honest. The blood pooled around his feet as it ran down his arm and knee, hot and bright, a stark contrast to the golden skin and pale, cold tiles. 

   Anakin wondered what was taking Obi-Wan so long, so he decided to pull him out. He needed to talk to his Master, and was not about to wait for him. He opened the door, mildly surprised to find that it wasn't locked, and stepped inside. 

   He saw his Master sitting there, sitting in a puddle of blood with his eyes rolled back into his head. "Master!" he cried, rushing over to pick him up. Obi-Wan smiled hazily at him, murmuring something about angels and evil. Anakin picked his Master up and with a wet cloth wiped away all of the blood, dressing his Master in his sleep-clothes. He wrapped gauze around the arm up to the elbow, making sure that none of his salty tears landed in the fresh wounds. His Master kept mumbling nonsense about Qui-Gon and some about Anakin. This worried Anakin, who checked his Master's head to confirm what he had already guessed; Obi-Wan was running a fever. Anakin didn't want to take him to the healers, because they would find out about the cutting, so instead he called Mace Windu, who he trusted. 

   "Anakin, what's wrong? You look like hell."

   "It's Obi-Wan. He's running a fever, and I don't know what to do. I don't want to call the healers because I don't want any rumours around the temple. So I called you."

   "Rumours?"

   "Later!"

   Mace Windu rested his hand on Obi-Wan's head for a minute before looking up at Anakin. "It's bad, but it could be worse. He'll be fine as long as he gets the treatment in time. I have the tonic in my quarters-I'll be right back." He turned around and ran out the open doors steadily, with the smooth, feline grace of a duellist. 

   Anakin looked at his Master and mumbled feeble words of encouragement. He paused in his frantic pacing around the room when he heard his master scream out his name. "What is it, Master?" he asked anxiously, taking one of his Master's cold, sweaty hands in his own. His Master seemed to quiet down at his touch, but he kept mumbling incoherent half-thoughts. From what Anakin could put together, he was telling his Master that it wasn't his fault- something about tainted love- and over and over, apologies, stupid, useless apologies to a rotting corpse.  

   He bit his cheek to keep the anger from simmering to the surface. He couldn't have Mace Windu seeing him like that. He took a deep breath and vowed to himself that he would stop his Master's agony before this was over, one way or another. He put his hand on Obi-Wan's head. "Don't worry, Master. I'll take care of everything," he whispered, "Everything."  He grit his teeth and hated the man who had done this. 

  "Here it is. Move over, Anakin." Anakin complied, and Mace let about half of the vial of dark green liquid trickle down Obi-Wan's throat. "He'll be fine, Anakin. Don't worry," said Mace softly, sitting down on the end of the sleep-couch. His brow furrowed as he looked up at Anakin, who hadn't moved. "Now- what do you mean, rumours? It's just a bad fever."

   "Well, no, but you know how the apprentice healers can be…they might say something…you know," said Anakin lamely, wishing he had thought of a more convincing lie. Mace knew that he was lying, but let him be for the moment. _The poor kid is traumatised,_ he figured. _Not really thinking straight._

   He stood up and gave Anakin a small bow, which Anakin retuned. "I'm glad I could be of assistance, but I must leave now. I'm guessing you can take care of your Master?"

   Anakin nodded. Mace gave him a half-smile and left, and Anakin suddenly realised that he was still standing up. He looked at his Master, who already had some of the colour coming back to his cheeks. He took out his Master's arm from the delicate material of the nightshirt and looked at the white gauze as if it were some sort of enemy. _What did I do to push him so far? Does he want to get away from me that badly_? Anakin looked at his Master with cloudy eyes, and finally let the tears drop onto the clean white gauze, and though it may have been only a figment of his troubled mind, he thought he could see the gauze darken where his tears fell. "You're going mad, Anakin," he said hoarsely, walking back to his own room and collapsing onto his bed. He would have pondered the point for longer, but sheer exhaustion forced him into a dark dream world where he could find no answers. 

   Anakin awoke at the break of dawn with sweat on his brow. He looked at his Master, and felt an irrational sense of relief that he was still there. He went to sit by his master's side and heard once more some cryptic remark about Qui-Gon. The anger from the night before bubbled up even stronger in him and he moved away from Obi-Wan quickly, afraid that he might hurt him. He lay back down on his bed and thought calm, rational thoughts about the whole situation. Well, he tried. 

   He couldn't calm down. What gave this dead man the right to hurt his Master like this? _He shouldn't have that power. He won't have that power,_ Anakin told himself. _I should have that power_. A dark plan began to form in his head. _No, Anakin, that is wrong_, said the more Jedi half of himself._ But why not? He deserves it, _said his other half, and he found himself believing this more and more until the small voice of reason faded into the back, an annoying insect's buzz that no one paid any mind to. 

   He stood up quietly and picked up his lightsaber from under his sleep-couch, and set out the door, a slow, purposeful stride in his feet matching the smirk of victory on his face. _It's all going to be over, _he told himself. He had promised Obi-Wan that he would take care of the situation, and he would. His fingers tightened on the deactivated lightsaber and his smile grew wider. 

   It was time to end his Master's pain. Forever end his Master's pain. 

   His grip tightened on the lightsaber imperceptibly. "Forever," he whispered, his voice harsh in his own ears. 

Angry Anakin + Lightsaber= Not good. 


	5. Control

Loyalties 

Chapter five: Control

   Anakin reached the memorial gardens quickly enough and switched on his lightsaber, hearing the ominous buzzing echo back at him through the empty gardens. He looked around himself to see the majestic trees, the beautiful flowers, and the tombs of the deceased Jedi. 

   He hated it. 

   The quiet beauty of the place seemed to laugh at him, to tell him to go away. He could hear the voices of the dead floating up to him, telling him that he had no right to be here, no right to be with Obi-Wan. "No!" he screamed into the hollows, dropping the lightsaber and wrapping his arms around himself to protect from a sudden chill that ran through his bones. "You don't own me! You can't hurt me! I won't let you, and I won't let you hurt my Master!" He fell to his knees, trying to block out the voices. "NO!" he screamed again, the desperation in his voice heard throughout the sleepy garden.

    "No…no…can't hurt me…" he whimpered, crawling to his lightsaber and clutching it to his heart. He felt reassured by the small, lightweight tube and stood up, looking around himself. He spotted the white marking stone easily, and strode towards it, with the lightsaber shaking in his uncertain fingers. He looked at it, and wondered for a split second if this was wrong. Then he heard the voices again, and over their senseless drawl of doom he heard his Master, whimpering and crying over Qui-Gon. He looked again at the marking stone, seeing now not a stone but an evil thing, threatening him, mocking him, stealing Obi-Wan from him. 

   He growled, a deep, feral sound from the bottom of his throat. And he screamed as he brought the lightsaber down, splitting the stone in two jagged halves. He felt the shock travel up his arm painfully, but he ignored it. There was work to be done. 

   He brought it down again, the blue blade humming as it split the rock again, leaving the acrid smell of lightning in the air. He did the same thing, over and over, until the majestic white gravestone was reduced to smouldering rubble. Anakin turned off his lightsaber and looked at the mess he'd left; fragments of the white stone lay everywhere. He flicked off some gravel that had landed on his feet and sat down; feeling waves of relief and guilt wash over him almost simultaneously. 

   He felt the pain shoot through his arms like adrenaline while hating himself for what he had just done. _The other Padawans cancontrol their anger, why can't I? _But the guilt faded away slowly to come back later, and all he felt was relief. He wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve, and saw that there was a small, bloody mark on it. He frowned and touched his cheek, finding that one of the sharper pieces had left him with a superficial slash across the cheek, a cut that would remind him of what he'd done every time he looked in a mirror. The thought scared him and pleased him.  

   He left there after an hour, absentmindedly toying with the bloody piece of rock that had cut him. Then he stood up, threw it over his shoulder and walked back to his quarters, falling back into a deep, uninterrupted slumber for several hours. 

   "Anakin, are you awake? Anakin?"

   Anakin stirred and opened his eyes to see the smiling face of his Master. 

   "Thank you for taking care of me. Once more, I am in debt to you. I'm sorry about the cutting; I just lost control. It won't happen again."

   "You say that too much, Master."

   "I suppose."

   They looked at each other for a few minutes, and the love glowing in Obi-Wan's eyes made Anakin's doubts resurface. Had he really done the right thing? He closed his eyes for a moment. _No use in living in the past, Anakin._ He opened his eyes again and smiled at Obi-Wan. "Come, Master, I have something to show you," he said, taking the hand Obi-Wan offered to pull himself out of bed. _Let's see what he thinks about this,_ thought Anakin as they walked to the memorial gardens.  "Anakin, I don't understand what you're doing-"

   "Shh…"

   He took them to the tree and let go of his Master's hand, showing him the demolished marking-stone's fragments lying at their feet. "For you, Master."

   Obi-Wan looked at the scene placed in front of him and felt a deep sense of dread swell in his heart. "Anakin, did you do this?" he asked, forcing his voice to be clam. 

   "Yes, I did."

   Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to picture it. It wasn't as hard as he hoped it would be. He saw his Padawan, attacking the gravel that was once a tombstone viciously, beating it down because it didn't agree with what he wanted. He cringed, seeing for the first time how angry his Padawan got, and how easy it was to unlock that anger. Anakin was a trail of kerosene waiting for a single spark.  He opened his eyes again and stared at the mess. That block had been solid pyonite, one of the hardest materials in the star system. But Anakin had demolished it in less than half an hour. 

   Obi-Wan shivered and sat down, amazed and terrified by the tall figure in front of him. That passed as he remembered his Master, and anger took over everything else.  He could almost see it, a red veil forced over his eyes, blocking out everything but Anakin. 

   "What is this, Anakin? Why? Did he ever hurt you? He saved you, for hell's sake! You should be thankful!"

   "I don't believe this! He's dead, Obi-Wan!"

   "That doesn't give you the right to do this! I could send you to Master Yoda! I should expel you from the Order!"

   "But you won't, Obi-Wan. You care about me. You need me. You can't hurt me."

   The conceit in Anakin's voice snapped something in Obi-Wan.  He slammed his Padawan against a tree and pinned him there, fuming. 

   "Can't hurt you? You think that I can't hurt you?  I thought that you could never do anything like this, even when everyone else did. Sometimes, my Ani, the world doesn't agree with what we think," he growled, digging his nails into Anakin's arms. 

   "Stop it, Obi-Wan!"

   "You will call me Master, and it is hardly in your place to tell me what I should do! You are my Padawan! I will do as I wish!"

   Anakin bit his lip at the pain burning in his arms. He felt hot tears prickling his eyes, and one slipped out, unwanted. 

   "Jedi don't cry, Padawan!" yelled Obi-Wan, throwing his Padawan to the ground. He stood above his Padawan, impressively silhouetted by the light of the early morning sun. 

   By now, any pretence of defence had slipped from Anakin's grasp and he cried bitterly, hoping, wishing, praying, and knowing that no one was going to come and save him now. "Please stop, Master," he whispered, his voice sore and broken. He had heard something pop in his ribcage when he fell, and a dull pain was slowly spreading through that area of his body.

    Obi-Wan sat down and looked into his Padawan's eyes. His eyes were cold and grey. This was the Obi-Wan that no one had seen, the Obi-Wan who had resented life for seven years, the dark Obi-Wan, if you wish. Those seven years of chastity, of bitterness, of anger, had finally taken over Anakin's calm Master, and he was a shadow of himself. He felt strangely disconnected from who he really was, and that made him feel free to do whatever he wanted. And he wanted to punish his Padawan for ruining what he had left of his Master. So he watched Anakin cry. And he loved it. 

   "Why'd you do it, Anakin? What made you do it?" he asked, voice mocking and cruel. 

   Anakin swallowed, tasting blood in his throat. "Qui-Gon was haunting you, and I thought you'd be happy if I stopped it," he answered, some of his strength leaking back into his voice. He felt energy surge through him like a current, emanating from anger. _Why can't he understand? I'm only trying to help._ _None of them understand. _

   "You held onto him like a baby, years after he was dead, playing with the memories in your head to pretend that he was here. And you couldn't handle it when you found out that you were attracted to someone else. I heard you when you were sleeping," said Anakin accusingly. The newfound vigour surged to his limbs and he pushed his Master down, standing up and reversing their roles. 

   "I did you a favour, and you didn't appreciate it at all," yelled Anakin, the power that he had run into that morning returning to him now. "You never appreciate the things I do for you!" he picked his Master up and slammed him against the tree, a strange déja-vu playing itself out in the garden. 

   Obi-Wan's eyes widened when he saw Anakin's eyes. They were black, black as a cold midnight in winter, and showed no trace of humanity at all. Anakin threw him onto the flowers with the Force, and Obi-Wan landed with a thud, wondering where Anakin had gotten all of this sudden strength. He had hit his lip on a larger chunk of white stone, and he could feel the blood starting to ooze out of his mouth. He swallowed the metallic taste of the liquid in his mouth and wished fanatically that someone would come and save them. 

   Anakin straddled his Master's hips, laughed a deranged laugh, feeling for the first time the sweet pleasure of absolute control. He loved that control, loved that helplessness that he saw on the face of the man between his knees. 

   Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin numbly, wondering if anything would surprise him about his Padawan anymore. Maybe he was a drug lord. Maybe he was a pimp. There was very little he wouldn't put past Anakin right now. 

   "Say it, Master. Say it! Say that I did you a favour!" When Obi-Wan remained silent, Anakin growled, a deep, feral sound. "Say it," He said, his voice deadly and cold. Still his Master remained silent. Anakin pressed his lips together in determination. He would hear those words pass from his master's lips before the day was over, because he would make them. Anakin pulled off the loose material of his Master's nightshirt, ignoring the bandaged arm. He suddenly went blind with fury at the passive aura his Master radiated, as if he didn't care about what Anakin was doing. He wanted to see Obi-Wan moan, wanted to see him lose control. Control. His control. 

   He kissed his master's lips brutally, sucking on the blood coating them. The metallic fluid tasted odd in his mouth, bittersweet, strangely saccharine and hot. He sucked the wound he'd caused dry, and when he wanted more, he moved down to his neck. He sucked, leaving a violet mark where his mouth had been, feeling adrenaline and arousal shoot through him in waves. 

   Obi-Wan felt like his body was engulfed in a cold fire. There was blood leaking from a cut on his abdomen, and his entire body hurt. There were tears in his eyes, but he wouldn't let Anakin see tem. He had to bite back a laugh at the thought that had entered his mind: _This is the midlife-crisis affair from hell._  

   Anakin looked at his Master's bare body, where he could see marks left from sucking too hard just starting to turn blue. He saw the beginnings of bruises, and even some blood leaking, all of his doing. The thought spurred him on, and he screamed his proclamation into the sun-lit sky. "I'll hear you say those words, Master," the word was a curse in his mouth, "before the day is through."

   But Obi-Wan did not cry.. Anakin gave Obi-Wan all he could handle and more, and still Obi-Wan did nothing. He lay there with the same passive expression on his face, numbed to the pain his body was being put through. It drove Anakin insane, and he tried, over and over again, to strike a reaction. He picked up a sharper piece of rock and pressed into his Master's shoulder in a haze of violent lust, pulling it along to form a gash in his Master's shoulder, stretching almost to his elbow. He saw his Master's features tighten very slightly, but nothing else. It drove him insane. He grit his teeth and stood up, figuring that there was no more he could do. As a final goodbye, he kicked his Master hard in the ribs with his boots, checking one last time to see if he had any effect on Obi-Wan. Nothing. He spat on his Master's chest, marking his territory as a wolf would.  

   Anakin turned around, robes billowing, and proudly walked away, leaving Obi-Wan lying there, broken and dazed. 

   It was then, and only then, that Obi-Wan could let go of the past, with his blood staining the fragments of his Master's tombstone that his Padawan had broken. _So,_ he thought,_ I suppose he did do me a favour._ He laughed, but it quickly turned into a cough, He decided not to laugh at the irony then. He let go of all of it, and watched the sun rise higher and higher in the sky, going through his memories and letting go, letting go of these useless loyalties. He was cold and in a great deal of pain, but he felt more at peace with the world than ever before. 

   Obi-Wan lay there, his blood staining the white gravel under him to a deep crimson. The green grass turned black with it, but he didn't move. He dreamed in a hazy world between life and death, about Qui-Gon, about Anakin, about himself. He saw a strange vision of a tall, bipedal creature clad in black that was darker than deep space that breathed in a pained, laboured way. From this creature spread a nameless dread, closer and closer until-

    Obi-Wan fell back into the world of the living with a start. He didn't understand the vision, and he didn't want to. He started to forget about it, and soon had no idea what he had been thinking about. He felt every thread of his corporeal being scream out into pain, but he ignored it all and fell into a deep, troubled sleep once more. A sleep that he almost never awoke from. 

    Later, when Anakin returned, in tears, Obi-Wan had nothing to say. Anakin knelt by his Master's side, horrified at the broken beauty before him. He cupped his Master's face in his hand, but his Master turned away, and that gesture told Anakin more than any words could. 

   He sat there; silent sobs wracking his body, watching his Master stare out into the infinite blackness of the galaxies. Finally, Obi-Wan pulled himself into a sitting position, and talked in a small, even voice. "Thank you, Anakin. You did do me a favour."

   Those words broke Anakin's heart and he sobbed openly, silently pleading through their bond. No, Master. That wasn't me. I love you…don't leave me here…I'm so sorry…Master? Master, say something. 

   "Drink," said Obi-Wan, pointed to the trickle of blood on his shoulder.

   "No, Master, I couldn't possibly-"

   "Drink," he commanded, and Anakin did, hesitantly, but the blood was cold and bitter this time, and he dearly wished to spit it out. Anakin felt nauseous at the bitter liquid that filled his mouth with the cold taste of copper and hate. 

  Obi-Wan looked at his Padawan, who was about to vomit. He smiled bitterly and stood up. "Blood is life. You have taken most of mine. You drink from it, you feed off it. And now it is bitter to you. It should be. You leave me drained, Anakin, drained of life, love and will. All I have is you. And that's how it will stay, Anakin, that's how it will stay. You will be everything I have, and leave me with nothing in the end."

   He took a few steps away from the sprawled, immobile form of his Padawan. "Nothing."

   And he walked away, into the dark cover of night, exhausted, broken and empty, leaving Anakin crying in the gardens, to start a new life. Something in their bond was broken that day, and neither one knew what it was, so neither of them could fix it. But something was lost in that garden, lost into the whispers of the trees and the flowers, and the shattered, bloodied tombstone. 

Was it trust? Compassion? Sympathy? No one could be sure. 

  And so it stayed, just as Obi-Wan had said. Sure, their routine fell back to normal, and they were as normal as a Master and Padawan any age, but something, something was lost, not trust, but an elusive sort of love, and Anakin found himself missing it. Missing it so much that it almost physically hurt. He vowed never to let it happen again, never to let himself get exposed like that ever again. And he didn't. From that day forth, his soul was closed, sealed by a pain that would stay with him forever. 

   A loyalty that was never really there. A wound that was never healed; only covered up with makeup and bandages, left to fester and rot. And a fiery, overpowering lust that consumed everything, like lava, leaving cold black rock when the waves came crashing down. 

   No one has as much control over their future as they would like to believe. It's our emotions that decide our actions, whether we choose to believe it or not.  Often it is also these emotions that linger in our hearts long after the event has passed, marking us. 

So it is with all sentient beings.

Even the almighty Jedi knights.

~~Fin~~


End file.
